


Something Wrong

by dedicatedfollower467



Series: Zukka Shorts [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedicatedfollower467/pseuds/dedicatedfollower467
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sokka can't seem to figure out what he's done to make Zuko so upset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Posted from Tumblr.
> 
> Fill for the prompt: Sokka/Zuko 32. "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

Sokka doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Zuko hasn’t talked to him for the past three days and he can’t figure out what’s changed. He must have said something, but he doesn’t know  _what_. He wishes Zuko would just tell him.

The last time he had seen Zuko for more than a few seconds was three nights ago, at the Fire Days Festival. The fireworks over the capitol were beautiful, though neither of them had been paying much attention. Sokka had been too focused on exploring the taste of Zuko’s fire-flakes-flavored mouth. His lips felt like they were burning, but in a good way - the pleasant tingle of spicy food and long time spent making out.

Sokka had placed a hand on Zuko’s chest, stroking his muscles through the embroidered fabric of the official Firelord robes. “Zuko,” he’d muttered as they broke apart. “You’re the best.”

He’d gone in for another kiss - chaste this time, lips pressing gently against lips. Sokka had wanted to part the royal robes, run his fingers along Zuko’s toned pecs, maybe kiss his collarbone. But after the kiss he heard Zuko gasp - a rush of fear, or realization, and the other man pulled away from his touch.

The Firelord rose to unsteady feet, rubbing his hand against his mouth. His eyes were wide and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides

Sokka tilted his head upward. “What is it, Zuko?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

Zuko shook his head, turning away. The crowning hairpiece glinted with the light of fireworks and lanterns. “Nothing,” Zuko said. “I’m fine. I just realized something.”

And then he had walked off, and he’d been avoiding Sokka ever since.

Sokka has spent the past three days trying to figure out what he’d done. Was it calling him the best? Zuko had never objected before - and Sokka had called him a lot more than the best. “Sweetheart” and “babe” come to mind, and incredible, and amazing, and perfect. Because Zuko  _is_ , incredible and amazing and perfect and the absolute  _best_ at everything. But had it been too much pressure that night?

Or was it the chest-touching? They hadn’t done much more than make out before, and Zuko did have that nasty lightning scar. Sokka didn’t think it still hurt him, but what if it did? What if he was still self-conscious about his appearance?

He figures that was it. Sokka makes a resolution. Next time he sees Zuko, he’s going to apologize.

.

Sokka sees Zuko the next day, at the end of a long hall. He’s bent over, talking with Aang. The two hug quickly, and then Aang skips off. Sokka shakes his head. No matter how old he gets or how much responsibility he takes on, Aang always seems like a little kid.

Zuko is walking away now, but Sokka can’t let him. “Zuko!” he calls, running to catch up. “Hey, Zuko!”

The Firelord freezes, half turned to look back. Sokka wants to run up and clap him on the shoulder, or maybe hug him, but he stops before he gets too close, the distance between them awkwardly large. They stare at each other for a moment.

“Look, Zuko,” Sokka says, at the same time Zuko breathes, “Sokka,” in an almost-irritated tone of voice.

Sokka holds up a hand. “I’m sorry,” he says, not waiting to hear whatever reprimand Zuko has for him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other night. I don’t know if it was your scar or something I said or what, but I am really, really sorry. I didn’t - I don’t want us to be apart like this. Can we go back to how we were before?” He knows he’s pleading by the end, but he really misses Zuko. He wants to be allowed to kiss him again. Or - if he can’t have that - at least touch him.

Zuko takes a breath. “My scar?” he says. “You thought -  _you_ did something?”

“Well, yeah,” Sokka says. He bites his lip for a second. “Look if you want space or you can’t - if we can’t be, y’know - whatever we were, kissing and making out and stuff - that’s fine, I don’t need that. But can we still be friends? I miss hanging out with you.”

Zuko is shaking a bit and Sokka realizes suddenly that the quiet sounds he’s making are  _laughter,_ wry and self-deprecating. “It’s not - That’s not it at all,” Zuko says.

“Then what is it?” Sokka asks, hoping he’s not pressing too hard.

Zuko looks him in the eyes, and Sokka remembers again what it’s like to lose himself in those honey-colored irises. They sparkle in the sunlight, as golden and alive as fire. He meets those eyes and can’t help but wonder what Zuko sees in his own.

Zuko sighs. “I think I’m in love with you,” he says, closing his eyes. “And I’m terrified.”

Sokka swallows. They stand in silence for a long moment, Zuko with his eyes shut, swaying like a blade of grass in the wind, and Sokka with his mouth parted in something a little like awe.

“You’re in love with me?” Sokka squeaks.

Zuko sighs again through his nose and starts to turn away. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know we’re not like that. There’s no reason you should reciprocate at all. Of course we can still be friends. But we’ll have to stop - kissing. I don’t think I can…”

Sokka stops him before he walks off by taking two stumbling steps and grabbing Zuko’s hand. The Firelord’s eyes fly open, staring down at their intertwined fingers.

“Wait,” says Sokka. “Wait. I’m not…” He licks his lips, not sure how to finish the sentence.

Their eyes meet again, and Sokka suddenly knows what to say.

“I’m not sure where we’re going, or what we are to each other,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Zuko flinches and tries to pull away but Sokka grips his hand tight.

“ _But_ ,” he says, emphasizing the word, “I think I  _could._ Can we - do you mind if we try?”

Zuko looks up, licking his lips. “I think I’d like that.”

Smiling, Sokka pulls the other man to him, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth. Zuko turns at the last moment, reaching out with his free hand to grab Sokka’s neck, turning the kiss into something hard and open-mouthed.

 _Perfect_ , Sokka thinks to himself as they break for air. He isn’t sure yet that he’s in love with Zuko, but he knows it’s going to happen.


End file.
